


Dear My Agony

by DesMotsComme_Violence (TheFire_in_the_NightSky)



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Brooding, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Homoeroticism, M/M, Melancholy, Poetry, Symbolism, Vampire Geoffrey McCullum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 11:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFire_in_the_NightSky/pseuds/DesMotsComme_Violence
Summary: O troubl'd soul, suffocating lips upon meThat spear in my ribs, the eagle swallowing my liverWhy must you kiss my pouring spirit–As once my blood met thine?Pale scarlet and yours now, possess’d as thee is to me...





	Dear My Agony

**Author's Note:**

> I know poetry isn't for everyone, especially when it comes to fanworks, but these two compel me with all sorts of ideas; not to mention the atmosphere of the game itself. So this is me leaning heavily into my Poe and Baudelaire-inspired bullshit.
> 
> Written from the POV of Jonathan.

Sleep until thee must,  
When Night tints the slumbering dusk  
Wild-hearted or mellow'd,  
His wretchedness still torments my wakefulness  
No immunities exist within me for curses of the heart;  
Not a cure nor tincture I could be troubl'd to concoct  
My Hunter's voice like blacken'd thoughts rattling o'er me–  
Once gather'd in menace, once in affinity  
Hath two darkly commun'd in mortal torture,  
Foreseen funereal destiny as such a comedic play?

O troubl'd soul, suffocating lips upon me  
That spear in my ribs, the eagle swallowing my liver  
Why must you kiss my pouring spirit–  
As once my blood met thine?  
Pale scarlet and yours now, possess’d as thee is to me  
The gift of Night beds the well-fated crime  
Of blush'd cheeks and quicken'd hearts  
Doom'd ever to repeat within ill Providence  
Woe to mine inexorable goodness;  
'Twas a mutual parting

His magnetism and snappishness drew mine eye and hammer'd my pulse,  
Woke the charr'd shade in my form to blooming  
Be it evermore a cold swell of pleasure–  
Lovely and choking chill  
It eats me alive as an insatiable Cronus  
Whilst the Woodsman lays out his flesh for this creature's gluttonous meal  
Dear my agony, my fallen grace,  
Endure his beauty, and his terror, as he doth bide the spurs of mine  
So we men – accurst, Damn'd, and belov’d –  
Might inherit a night, so sweet we softly die


End file.
